


The Kelpie's Bride

by pokeasleepingsmaug



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Kelpies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 12:42:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11208309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pokeasleepingsmaug/pseuds/pokeasleepingsmaug
Summary: Walking along a lake one day, the reader meets a mysterious creature who makes her an offer.





	The Kelpie's Bride

“Most people do not come this way anymore,” the voice mused, snapping you out of your silent reverie. Where had that come from? The only other living being nearby was the great black horse, water glinting on his inky sides, alge tangled in his long mane, and surely he hadn't been the one to talk? But he stood knee-deep in the otherwise still lake, and everything was silent. No birds even called here. It was eerily quiet in the way only a forest can be when the small creatures sense danger. 

The horse looked at you with eyes as blue and timeless as the lake he stood in, and tilted his head to the side as if judging you. His mighty flanks heaved in a deep sigh; you blinked. And the horse was gone, replaced instead by a man clad only in the cool water of the lake. Your eyes bulged at the sight; you had never seen a naked man. It was more beautiful than you could have ever imagined—the way his wet skin glistened, the ripple of corded muscle and tendon when he moved. The nest of curls at the juncture of his thighs, and the large cock that hung there. You felt your cheeks redden.

He moved toward you with scarcely a ripple in the lake's surface. “Cat got your tongue?” he teased, voice mocking. “Come here.” He beckoned to you with one outstretched hand, and you felt the pull of him as if he grabbed your arm and tugged you forward. You waded into the water, almost against your will. His eyes on you felt heavy; you averted your eyes to avoid meeting his gaze directly.

The man's hand grasped your chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning your head to inspect you from all sides. “Pretty thing,” he murmured, as if to himself.”What is your name, little one?” 

“Y/n,” you stammered out, feeling strangely breathless at his almost careless touch. 

“Well, Y/n, I have a proposal for you. I am Ivar, the lord under the lake. I find myself lonesome, and I desire to make you my wife. If you will come with me and leave the cares of this mortal world behind, you will be happy and free and young forever, always at my side. I time, when you are strong enough to handle it, I will teach you my ways and we will rule my underwater kingdom as equals. No mortal cares will bother you, if you become my lady beneath the lake.” 

His voice was rough and deep, caressing your skin like calloused hands, and you shivered. Without even a thought, you nodded. You knew nothing but that he was surely one of the fey folk, come to take you away. Your mother always said you courted trouble; she did not know it was trouble who courted you.

He nodded, smiling with pointed teeth. “When I become a horse, again, climb on my back and hold tight to my mane. Do not let go, and do not breathe in the water. If you can make it all the way to my kingdom, then I have finally found a woman worthy of being my bride, after all these years of fruitless searches.”

You did not get the chance to ask how many he had tried to marry before you,because the great black horse looked expectantly over his shoulder at you. His coat was sleek and wet, the algae made his man hard to grasp. You had barely clamped your knees around him when he dove and the weight of the lake closed over your head. He went down faster than should even be possible, seemed to break the laws of gods and men as he dropped like a stone toward the bottom of the lake. You closed your eyes and gripped harder at his mane, holding with all your might as the force of the water tried to rip you from his back. 

Colors danced behind your eyelids; your lungs were so hungry for air there was no other thought in your head. And still the lake squeezed you tighter and tighter, wanting to crush you, to break your bones between its liquid fingers. You felt like nothing more than a burst of sunlight,insubstantial and fleeting, and all at once a lump of lead, cold and heavy and dead. Your grip on the great horse was weakening, there was no question about it now. You were not destined to be this creature's bride, only another failed attempt at finding love. Such was the curse of the kelpie, and those young women who feel victim to their charms.

The slickness of the mane was suddenly gone, no powerful flanks clasped between your knees, and you opened your mouth to breathe the water. Why delay your inevitable death any further?

Instead there was air, warm and sweet, and your lungs sang in joy. You opened your eyes. The man stood before you, wet black hair sticking to his neck, pointed teeth bared in a victorious grin. He held his hand out and you grasped it so he could pull you to your feet. “After all the ages of the world alone, I have finally found my bride.” 

He pulled you to him, claiming you in a kiss so fierce his pointed teeth cut your lips. He groaned, pulling you tighter, and licked the blood from your mouth. “Welcome home, little one, my lady under the lake.”


End file.
